Glass (Crank 2)

or smokes to underage people

are common. I don’t want

to get him in trouble, not when

he might be helpful in the future.

Besides, one cancer stick, with

no more in a drawer, won’t

get me hooked again. Right?

Slot dude smiles a knowing

smile, shakes one from the

hard pack. You owe me one.

Yech. He’s scruffy. Kind

of smelly. I definitely hope

he doesn’t think I owe him.

Grady hands me some matches.

No law against that, right?

“Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”

I retreat outside, into the cool

of sunless morning. My hands

shake a bit as I fire the Camel Light.

It tastes like heaven. Like

if I could just keep smoking

it, I’d never need to eat again.

If you’ve never smoked, you won’t

understand that, but if you have,

you know exactly what I mean.

I suck the poison slowly,

with great, immediate pleasure.

It’s almost as good as…

Okay, maybe not as good as

that. But it calms me,